


When Magnolias Fall

by corinnemaree



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Rating May Change, Rich Arya Stark, Stable Master Gendry Waters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: When Magnolias start to bloom, Arya is sent to her family’s estate in the country to get her away from her scandal. She is alone, and in need of company. With only the staff to keep her entertained and far from loneliness, she grows increasingly close with the stable master - Gendry Waters.Who’s to say what will happen when Magnolias fall.





	When Magnolias Fall

**Author's Note:**

> what a shitty ending, so here's my take on that [post on tumblr ](https://wonderrbat.tumblr.com/post/184983548618/arya-all-alone-in-her-familys-mansion-for-the) cause i love au's.  
> also, this chapter has not be beta read, so mistakes will be littered everywhere. English is my first language, but can i string a sentence together? no. i want to be a writer for a living. it's going well guys.  
> anyway! enjoy! xx

It was bigger than he expected - far more grand than it had been described on paper, or even in the interview process. The long drive up the street was lined with magnolia trees, fully in bloom, pinks fading into white then back again. Then, the house loomed, higher than four stories, almost white, but weathered by time. At the entrance, lined the staff, all waiting for him. This wasn’t what he expected at all.

 

~*~*~

 

It felt like a death sentence - hidden from sight, and away from the invading view of the press. Arya’s scandal wasn’t what her family was expecting. The Stark name was tainted.

And Arya was being blamed.

Stark was a household name, everything from home appliances to cars to their own film studio. The children of Ned Stark were all apart of the family business in some way, both Robb and Sansa were on the board, Bran working small and managing a retail store with Rickon. Even their adopted cousin, Jon, was handling deals to do with car manufacturers.

Yet Arya didn’t have the head for business - not what the Starks were putting out. Their name haunted her - and rebellion was what she lived for. She went out drinking, spent time with her friends and flitted around from country to country. That was until the incident, as it had been so delicately put, that landed her back home, being driven to the countryside and away from prying eyes.

And Ned was furious. That this happened. That he had to make this decision. That he had to do this to Arya.

Arya knew she had crossed a line this time - that this was the last straw and the last remaining ounce of calm that Ned could muster. From the exasperated sigh he held when he told her what was happening - she also knew that he may not be able to handle her anymore. _Anything_ about her. She knew she got away with things in the past - no words on favourites, but Ned held a love for Arya that he did for no one else. He once said that Arya reminded him of his sister.

Perhaps that’s why it broke him to send her away.

Their country mansion was hidden away, shrouded in magnolias that her mother loved. In all, Arya felt trapped by her own decisions. Life could have been simpler, better if she wasn’t a damn delinquent.

“Miss, we’re coming up to the house now. The staff will be waiting,” Brienne said. Arya sighed, falling deeper into her seat, letting her hair fall in front of her face, some falling inside her sunglasses. Her drunken mistake of dyeing her hair pink kept her from forgetting that night, the flashes in her eyes as it swept her vision.  

There were a lot of things that Arya regretted from that night.

The car stopped and Brienne came around to her door. When it opened, Arya stepped out, holding onto the door to support herself. Clutching at her stomach, she hitched her way out of the car and tried not to stumble when she stood upright. It hurt to breathe, her torso tighter than what she was used to.

“Hey,” she greeted with a vague wave to the crowd of staff, before leaning over to Brienne, “do I need to learn everyone’s name?”

“You’ll learn them over time, Miss,” she replied.

“Fun,” Arya said, clicking her tongue, “see you lot around, I guess,” she waved again, forcing herself to move inside. It was more difficult than she thought - at the hospital, she had the wheelchair and people helping her about, here she was alone.

She used the staircase railing to hoist her up, keeping her levelled and avoiding the painful hisses that she so desperately wanted to make. It felt like a lifetime before she made it all the way up and to her room. Standing outside the door for a moment, Arya pressed her hand to the stop - her hand covering the soft paint that marked her room all those years ago, fingers longer and palm wider. Arya was grown now.

Inside, Arya sighed at what met her, the room still decorated from her childhood. It wasn’t as though she hated it now that she was in her twenties, but it was missing something she couldn’t quite define. It was only a holiday home, she reminded herself, it shouldn’t feel like she was returning to her safety of home. It was a place they visited once a year when they were children and teens. But when Robb and Jon stopped coming, the rest refused to go along with it.

Putting her things down, and there was minimal things at that, she made her way to her bathroom, hands on every surface she could. Even after everything, she felt like she’d been through hell. In her bathroom, she took off her sunglasses, showing the destruction that covered her right side. With a black eye and scattered scratches, her face was still a bloody mess, with streaks of bruises that roamed her skin.

Arya wondered if it was cool to have a scar or not.

And when she lifted her shirt to see the blazing red of blood on the gauze, she knew she couldn’t do this all alone.

Placing herself in her bathtub, she remained there for a while, contemplating whether or not to see what lay underneath the bandages. In the end, she called for Brienne, who called a physician to check on what was wrong.

When the doctor came, he looked over her stitches, noting that he would need to add an extra stitch along where one of her wounds was stretching. Arya, being the idiot that she was, just sat in the bath, towel between her teeth and little anesthetic. To be fair, she thought she could handle the pain - she couldn’t.

She didn’t pass out, but she was close to it. The doctor recommended pain medication, but when Arya and Brienne exchanged looks, the meds were given to Brienne. As the doctor left, a new man entered her bathroom, and she perked as she recognised him.

“Davos? Is that you?” she asked. He had a thicker beard, with far more grey in it than she remembered, but when he smiled, she knew for sure it was him. He had always served her father, close friends and maintained the house when the family wasn’t on the property.

“Miss Stark, it’s been a lifetime,” he chuckled, restraining himself and putting his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry about the circumstances, but I must confess...it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again,” he smiled solemnly and she scoffed.

“You heard, huh?”

“I think the whole country has,” he replied, and Arya nodded, “how are the stitches?”

“Popping by the second,” she said, almost going to tap her side, but stopped herself. She was going without her pain meds, she didn’t need more pain.

“Please rest for the next few days, I’ll try and make things as easy as possible. I’ve heard your father is set to join us in a week to check in on you,” he recommended, and the news about her father made her shift uncomfortably in the tub.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied, settling herself back into a comfortable position. There wasn’t much comfort in a porcelain cocoon, keeping her trapped there until the pain finally subsided. Davos looked down at her solemnly, crouching beside the bath.  

“In any case, feel free to lounge around. If you need anything, just let one of the staff know and they’ll get right on it,” he nodded.

“Thank you, Davos,” she said as he reached into the tub, helping her out and guiding her to the bed.

Arya stayed in bed for the first few days - doing nothing drove her nuts, she wanted to get out and do anything else, but the stitches caused her more pain than she could handle. And so, she was confined to her bed.

When she was finally able to get up without feeling herself dying, she sat by the windowsill, watching the world pass by without her. Ned had come and gone without seeing Arya, but she saw him come and go. All she could think of was her father’s voice, the boom that radiated from his chest as he yelled at her like he had never done before. Never to her.

 _You will stay out of the spotlight for a year. You will stay at the country house and you will come back when winter comes. It breaks me to do this, Arya, but I am not letting you destroy yourself anymore. Get clean. Get_ better _. Until then, stay at the house._

Arya pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her temple to her knee as she looked outside. Across the field, a man rode on a horse with four others in his wake. He glanced over his shoulder, gesturing and calling something that Arya couldn’t make out. The horses moved in sync, following directions and changing up their pace, until finally letting them have free reign, trotting about the field as he watched over the scattered horses.

For a brief moment he looked up to the house, and Arya perked, seeing if he was looking to her, only for him to turn back, letting his horse walk the length of the field at its own leisure. Arya watched them for a while until he took the horses back inside and Arya was left to watch the day turn to afternoon, and she returned to her bed.

The next day, she snuck down to the kitchen, grabbing as much food as she could in her hands as she wandered. When the whinnying from the stables became intense, Arya couldn’t stop herself from moving towards it. There was a rush of comotion, people starting to worry as a horse bucked inside it’s pen. Then, as quickly as it had started, it settled down, the crowd dispersing as a gentle shushing held the stables.

“You just have to watch Nymeria, she can get a bit wild when startled.” The man from the day before said, soothing Arya’s horse. She knew better than anyone that Nymeria was a force to be reckoned with. The thought that someone else knew it made her feel _protective_ of the horse.

“Noted, sir,” Podrick replied. Of all the staff, Arya knew Podrick. He was a nice guy, nervous thing when he first started to work with them, his family letting him work and play when he was far younger. He was an all rounder, mimicking much of Davos’ work, if Arya recalled correctly.

“Please don’t go around calling me that, you know my name.” The man rolled his shoulders

“Yes. Of course,” Podrick replied. When he passed Arya, he smiled and Arya replied with her own, making her way into the stables slowly, barely a person about. It was only Arya and the man with Nymeria.

“There you go, been such a good lass lately,” he whispered, stroking the horse’s mane. Arya kept walking, admiring how the stables hadn’t crumbled down - they looked better from when she was a child. Before she even realised it, she ran straight into the man. Arya hadn’t even realised he had moved, but he was like a wall against her, hard on impact and unmoving as Arya crashed into him.

“Wow! Watch it would you!” he snapped, and Arya scrunched up her face at him.

“And who do you think you are to boss me about?”

“ _Boss you about_? You're in my fucking stable, you need to follow what I say out here!” he barked, and Arya laughed, stepping into his path to keep his attention firmly on her.

“And you’re in my fucking home, so watch it,” she warned, turning on her heels and heading back towards the house.

He scoffed over her shoulder. “You’re a brat, you know that?”

Arya turned quickly. Who the fuck did he think he was, talking to her like she wasn’t the person paying his salary? “Excuse me? I can have you fired for talking like that.” She marched right back to him, standing her ground, but it was difficult when he puffed out his chest slightly, and looked down at her.

“From what I know, and how the rest of the staff talks about you, I don’t think you have the power anymore,” he replied back with a smirk, and Arya’s hands bound. Before she could even register what she was doing, she shoved at his chest and made him stumble back a few steps.

“Fuck you,” she snapped back at him, storming into the house and slamming as many doors as she could before finally reaching her room, ready to trash it all. But the panting enough made her feel weak, strained beyond what she could handle at that point in her recovery.

For the rest of the day, she stewed in her rage, unable to move from her bed, and only seeing other people when she requested things. They all brought her things, with smiles and nervous speech. Did people fear her? Or her family name? She didn’t have people in that house that didn’t have to like her. And that idiot out in the stables yelled at her, and he didn’t fear her or her family name.

Who the hell did he think he was?

Arya stirred all night long. Something about what the guy in the stable said. _Brat_. She wasn’t a brat. Was she? She knew she had certainly been that way once in her youth - but now? Could she really be that girl, stuck trying to be a toddler for the rest of her life instead of growing up?

Arya had despised those girls - the ones that relied on others to fix their problems, but were needlessly reckless purely because they had no other responsibilities. She always thought she was someone with more responsibilities than most - but she knew better. She excused herself for that reason, but it wasn’t true. She neglected the things she should have - let herself be reckless because she could.

And above it all, she thought of the stable hand, or whatever his job was, and how he stood his ground against her. Not many people did that anymore, letting her get away with murder for the most part. But he didn’t. He knew his place, and worth. And stood there - knowing full well he was right to do so. Arya knew that. She was just...stubborn.

It took her a few days to bring herself to get out of bed and make it to the stables. Being without pain meds took its toll more than she anticipated, and her recovery for exerting herself liked to kick her in the ass. She couldn’t blame it. It was a physical wake up call to everything. She was tired, and so was her body.

At the edge of the stables, she saw him moving hay bales around, stacking some, and simply moving some into the stables for the horses. Arya pursed her lips as she leaned against one of the beams. It provided her with some much needed support.  

“What’s your name?” she asked, and the stable master, as she had learned, jumped at the voice she emitted to an empty stable.

“Waters, Gendry. Gendry Waters,” he cleared his throat, getting back to shuffling hay around. His clothes were loose, like her own, but they had far more wear. He must have worked in them nearly every other day. Whilst Arya’s loose clothes were for comfort, she knew his were for necessity, moving around and having the best motion for the job at hand. 

“I don’t have anyone here that I know well,” she said slowly, not meeting his eye. He stopped, looking back at her with his nose scrunched up tight. He stared for a moment, as though he were wondering something - like, was she serious.  

“And what am I meant to do about it? I’m not here to be your friend,” he remarked and Arya shugged.

“You’re also kinda stuck here,” she said and he rolled his eyes, “can I just...follow you around today?” she asked tentatively. He put the pitchfork down into the haystack beside him, resting his weight onto his hip.

“Can you learn some names today?”

“If you let me tag along, then we have a deal,” she said, and Gendry seemed to contemplate it for a moment. He rolled his eyes and gestured for her to follow him. She perked and followed after, watching him walk back and forth between the stables and eventually getting Arya to help him with some of his tasks. It was the least she could do.

Arya helped guide the horses out into the field, letting the graze for the morning as they went back to the stables to clear everything up. Arya wheeled a stack of hay towards Gendry as he unloaded more after clearing out the mess from the night before.

“What’s with the pink hair? From all the pictures in house, you had dark hair,” he asked, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve.

“Just wanted a change. Something new,” Arya shrugged, tugging on the ends of her hair.

“Change can be good. Unless it’s pink hair,” he shrugged, and Arya scoffed out a laugh, trying to keep up with him. He finished with most of it and said for Arya to rest. She tried unsuccessfully to jump up onto the edge of a stable beam, but she wasn’t tall enough - and her torso was rather hindering.

Gendry laughed before moving towards Arya and gave her a look. Arya resigned to the fate that was set up for her. His hands went in at her waist, and she hissed in pain. He looked like he was going to say something, but Arya simply moved his hands down to her hips and nodded to him. Gendry picked her up and placed her on the beam, letting her rest her weight.

Over the course of an hour, Gendry quizzed her on different staff members, describing them as best as he could and told her their names. Eventually he’d circle back and ask again, trying to get her to remember as best as she could. It took her a few tries to get some names, but she felt like she was learning over the course of the hour.

Gendry pulled the saddle off the wall, and Arya asked what he was doing if he wasn’t going to ride. Explaining that the saddles all needed to be checked after a few weeks was important - making sure if it’s used, it isn’t going to toss someone off the back of a moving horse. Arya would have asked more questions, but she knew Gendry may explain things she didn’t quite care about, and instead let him work. She’d ask him later.

As Gendry tested a strap, he asked about different members of staff and Arya took some time to answer. They managed to get through a lot of the staff before the list was running low.

“The kid in the bakery,” he asked, stripping from his long sleeved flannel. He tossed it aside after wiping his forehead, and continued to look over. He wore a tight henley underneath, which hadn’t fared too well over the day, sweat marks and dirt covered the shirt that may have once been white.

“Oh shit, okay, it’s something strange,” Arya chewed on her lip, kicking her legs back and forth. “Hot...hot pie?” she answered cautiously.

Gendry cracked a smile, working hard on the leather. “Right.”

“Yes!” she cheered. “Okay, one more and I’ll let you go do whatever,” she said, waiting patiently to see what Gendry would do. He stopped, looking up to the roof before he glanced back towards Arya.

“Woman that trims the roses.”

“Old or young?”

He clicked his tongue as he looked at her. “Ah, see, you caught on too quick. Old,” he groaned, as though he were going to trick her. He’d tripped her up four times before on those questions. She learnt at that point.

“Easy! Olenna Tyrell,” she said, and Gendry nodded, going back to work.

“Okay, now leave me alone. Go find something better to do,” he said, waving part of the saddle at her. Arya let herself slip from the edge of a stable and go back towards the house. She stopped at the edge of the stable, catching Gendry looking towards her.

“Go get food soon! I’ll eat it all,” she called and Gendry laughed, shaking his head.

“No one that small can eat what the kitchen cooks up,” he said, almost as though it were a challenge. Arya beamed back a smile.

“You’d be surprised,” she said proudly, raising her chin.

“I’ll get right on it,” he laughed, briefly getting to work, only to find himself looking back at Arya, who still hadn’t moved. She wanted him to move, to relax. “I said I would, get back in the house, Stark.” Arya rolled her eyes and went inside.

 

*

 

It became routine after that, meeting Gendry most mornings and learning about the place. He was new to the area and to the job, but he caught on quick. He was used to working with horses from his family’s farm, but he was getting used to being a full stable master when he was hired on the country estate. Arya had to admit, she liked spending time with Gendry. He wasn’t a push over, but he did let her push him around a bit.

Gendry also liked to be a pain in her side, urging her to do more and to stop moping around. Since being there, she had to admit, she was more sour than she’d ever been in her life, but he made her be nicer - to be herself amongst people she could consider like her family. She knew some of them, she didn’t have to be the worst version of herself around them.

As she sat in bed one morning, texting Sansa and waiting for the doctor to get in, she heard soft tapping on her window. She furrowed her brow as she looked at it, noticing that the taps sounded when small pebbles from the front walkway were being thrown at it. She walked over slowly, peering out as much as possible before she needed to open it, she saw the messy hair of Gendry below.

She scoffed, opening the window, and peering out the side. Gendry laughed as Arya’s hair fell all around her face. “Stark, how’s the ribs today?” he called up to her. Arya pouted as she inspected her side before giving Gendry a curious look.

“Why? You planning on injuring me some more?” she smirked.

“You should get out and ride!” he said, beaming up. Arya had to admit, it was the perfect day for a ride, and he looked especially keen to spend time with her - which he didn’t normally like to do, and it being the morning, he seemed excited.

“I’ve been told I can ride in Summer, and not a day sooner,” she reiterated. When Arya arrived, it had been a few weeks into Spring, and there were only a few more weeks left before Summer started. She was meant to be getting a check up that day anyhow, so she didn’t mind missing out as long as she knew she could get out of the bloody house eventually.

“When will spring end!” he groaned back out, both of them chuckling at the sentiment.

“Very funny,” she shook her head, “I hope Nymeria bucks you off!”

“Don’t even joke, that girl scares me,” he warned her, a smile still pressed to his lips.

“She better!”

“Get your ass down here and help out when you can,” he said, and Arya heard her bedroom door open. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Brienne, Davos, and the doctor walk in, smiling as she turned. Looking back out the window, she waved Gendry off.

“Later! I do have a life, Waters.”

“I doubt it,” he yelled, laughing as he moved towards the stables.

Arya pushed herself back inside, going back to her bed and sitting on the edge. The doctor examined her stitches, inspecting all her vitals and making sure everything was going the way it should have been. When he gave his final sigh, one that wasn’t exasperated, more as though he was proud after all the examines, and it made everyone perk up.

“Your stitches are looking well. It’s been nearly two months since the accident, so they’ve healed well, in spite of you pulling some out,” he explained and as Arya lowered her shirt, and chewed on her lip.

“Do you think I’ll need to take anything for pain? Or antibiotics or whatever?” she asked.

“No,” he shook his head, “but I have noticed from Brienne that you didn’t take any that I prescribed.”

Arya went tight lipped before reclining back slightly into her bed. “I think we all know it was best I didn’t.”

“You could have been careful,” he explained and shrugged.

“I was. I didn’t take any.”

“I’m assuming you have other vices now?” he laughed and Arya shook her head, as Davos and Brienne snickered.

“Maybe. If I can leave the fucking house soon,” she complained and the doctor nodded.

“I think you’ll be ready and active within two weeks. Just take it slow,” he nodded and Arya agreed, letting herself sink back into her bed and relief washed over her.

“We’ll let your father know the good news. Maybe you can go home soon,” Davos said.

Arya sat up quickly, looking at Davos and Brienne, who looked shocked by her quick reaction. “I think...I should stay here until Winter. Like father said.”

“We’ll let him know you said that. He’d love to visit,” Brienne said with a faint smile.

After spending some time in the stables with Gendry that day, she was covered in dirt and grime. After a long shower, hair wrapped up in a towel, she started to wash her face with cleansers and toners, inspecting her face for anything out of the ordinary when she paused.

Ayra looked at her reflection, wondering how only a few months ago, she looked different, battered and bruised. And now, she looked like she had more colour than she did then. Yet, she wondered how colourful she appeared to others. Thinking about it, she came up with a plan, something to feel more in tune with herself again, even with how bright she felt.

Walking downstairs, she wandered the halls, trying to find anyone, until she found one of the staff in the library going through some of the books and pilling things onto a tray. Arya assumed she was an all rounder, and cleared her throat. The woman turned in a start, looking at Arya.

“Gilly, right?” Arya asked the woman in the library. She nodded quickly, albeit nervously.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied and Arya grimaced.

“Arya’s fine,” she corrected. “Can you go out and get me this?” she asked, handing over the piece of paper to Gilly. She took it, and upon reading it, she beamed back, nodding quickly. Arya went back to her room, finding her room a mess. She needed a new breath of life - and this wasn’t it.

Over the course of the next day, she cleaned her room as much as possible.

She needed to breathe again. And this was it. This house was her breath.

  


~*~*~

 

Spring felt like it came and went in a breeze, barely letting Gendry register time. He’d spent most if it with Arya, and she made time seem like it was flying by. There was something fun about it, that he could get so lost in her, that time was no issue.

When he was preparing the saddle for Nymeria, he saw the short Stark girl looking at him from the edge of the stables and he couldn’t help but smile. Where her pink hair dully shined not a day or two before, now sat brown hair, like he’d seen in all the family portraits and tabloids before. Arya made her way to him, tentatively smiling towards him before she puffed out her chest and all ounce of nerves he thought he sensed was gone.

“Lost the pink, did we?” he asked, and as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, Gendry had to ignore the fact that his heart was racing.

“Change can be good, don’t you think?” she asked, walking past him, jabbing him in the shoulder with a smirk on her face. Then, she stopped, squaring her shoulders and standing taller than she had been before. She was being cocky and he had to admit, it was a good look on her. “And look at that? Is it Summer today?” she contained her smile, but not very well.

Gendry smiled as Arya went beside Nymeria, gesturing for him to come help her with the saddle on the horse’s back.

**Author's Note:**

> I know i made her have pink hair like maisie, and that i dye it back, but that’s purely for the drama, love maisie’s cute pink hair. I wanted to make that very clear.


End file.
